


A Good and Happy Life

by mmarkcohenn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Baby, Dating, Depression, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hunting, Love, Not Suicidal, Postpartum Depression, Pregnancy, References to Depression, but wants to die, more tags to come, past relationship, relationship repair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-12 06:05:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15333444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmarkcohenn/pseuds/mmarkcohenn
Summary: When Dean left you a year and a half ago, he left you behind in a state of despair. When Bobby calls and tells him you're in trouble, he drops everything to help you out. But he wasn't ready for the surprise you had waiting for him.





	1. Chapter 1

You pressed your back against the wall, heart pounding heavy in your chest. The knife clutched in your hand felt like a great weight to your exhausted body. Everything ached, and you were sure this bastard could hear your heartbeat in the dead silence under the docks. The usually crashing waves were still, as if they knew the intensity of what was going on. Warmth trickled down your neck from where he had gotten you--a small slice from a thrown pocket knife--a lucky shot--it felt like your heart was in your neck and it made everything spin.  
A shadow moved at the end of the wall, his back to you.  
You slowly crept forward, your hand shook as your grip tightened on the splintered handle. Everything was going fine. You were gonna get him. But in the dark, you didn’t notice the empty chip bag, that of course, crinkled the minute your boot slipped on it.   
He turned around and grinned when he saw you.  
This fucker had killed your family.  
And it looked like he was about to get you too.  
In a flash, he was before you--his hand gripping your neck tightly in his hand. Your eyes fluttered shut as you gasped for air--blindly throwing your knife forward, praying you would hit something with your wild swings. You seemed to get something--but instead of letting go, he just gasped and tightened his grip. The knife toppled out of your hand and your body went limp.  
You couldn’t fight back, though your mind fought to stay conscious.  
“Fu--fuck you,” you spat, choking for air.  
His hold on you grew past anything human, and suddenly--it was gone. You dropped to the ground, and despite being barely able to move, you were frantic to find out what had happened. Your eyes opened and you saw a bullet hole in his head, raising your hand, you pressed it against your neck, feeling the flow going faster as your heart pounded.  
“Hey, stay with us,” a familiar voice shouted.  
The soft sound of wet sand under heavy boots neared.  
“Get her, then let’s get the fuck out of here,” an even more familiar voice came.  
You looked up to see Sam and Dean Winchester, both holding guns at the ready.   
“I--I almost had him,” you huffed weakly.  
“Yeah, yeah, princess,” Dean rolled his eyes as he went to help you stand.  
“Get the fuck away from me, Winchester.” You snapped.  
The last time you saw Dean was from the window of Bobby’s house as he drove away in his Impala. You’d had a fight that Sam and Bobby tried to ignore. You had accused Dean of not wanting to commit, which felt like it had been true at the time. Things didn’t sound like they had changed from what you knew since you saw him a year and a half ago.  
“I saved your ass, how about a thank you?” He asked, pulling you up by your arms.  
Your body rested against the wall and you closed your eyes, “Sam, get this asshole away from me.”  
Sam sighed and let you lean against him, “Dean, just go get the car ready.”  
Dean huffed and kicked the asshole demon who had been attacking you one last time.  
“Why’d you waste a fucking bullet from the Colt on me?” You muttered as Sam swung his arm under your armpits, helping hold you up.  
“We weren’t really sure what this guy was,” Sam shrugged, helping you walk as best as he could.  
“Demon.” You answered, “he’s the one I was tracking.”  
Sam looked at you in surprise, though you couldn’t see his expression in the dark.  
“Bobby called and said you might be in danger,” Sam sighed as he stuck his gun away. “Also mentioned that you and Dean have something to talk about?”  
You tensed at that, and Sam could feel it.   
“What’s going on?” He asked.  
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” You spoke flatly. Which was a lie.  
In fact, the last time you had spoken to Dean was a pretty big deal. You two had--well, you considered it as going out and seeing each other. But one night when you were out researching, you’d found Dean, rather drunk and very flirty with some girl. Which usually didn’t bother you--you knew Dean sometimes flirted to get information. But his hand was a little too far up her skirt for your liking, and you had dragged him out of the bar by his ear.  
You shouldn’t have been in the bar in the first place--underage and in a rather fragile state, things could’ve (and did) gone very badly.  
Sam helped you to the Impala, where he sat you on the hood and grabbed a first aid kit from the trunk. Carefully, he managed to stitch you up and get the best bandage on your cut as he could. You took deep breaths and kept your eyes closed--trying to ignore Dean’s huffing and puffing. Once Sam was done, he went to the back of the Impala, leaving you and Dean alone. He crossed his arms and watched you.  
“What, Winchester?” You rolled your eyes, feeling his stare on you despite not wanting to look at him.  
“You look… Different.” He said as if he was inspecting you.  
“Yeah, well, a year and a half does a lot to a person.” You got up and stared at him with harsh eyes, “especially after you left me high and dry and--”  
You were cut off by Dean’s phone ringing.  
He huffed and answered his phone, “Bobby? Yeah. We got her. We’re about to take her home.”  
There was some chatter on the other end, and Dean kept his eyes on his hands as he spoke.  
“We’re not exactly buddy-buddy, y’know,” he shook his head. “I don’t want--”  
He grew quiet, and finally sighed and said, “yeah, okay. We’ll bring her over.”  
You shook your head and grabbed the phone, “Bobby, no--I’ve got stuff to do and…” You turned away from Dean and spoke softly, “Bobby, I’ve got to get home to--”  
“Give the phone back to Dean, y/n.” He huffed, “let them bring you here. You’re not safe where you are.”  
“Fine,” you mumbled and gave Dean his phone back, going to the back of the Impala and got in.  
Sam got in as well, and just a moment later, Dean followed.   
“Where do you live?” Dean asked as he started to pull away from the beach.  
“Take a left, and then another left when you hit the intersection.” You grabbed your phone out and checked the time, sighing shakily.  
It was silent for a few minutes as they drove, but finally, Sam turned around and looked at you.  
“So, how’ve you been?” He smiled a bit, trying to lighten the mood.  
“Busy,” you nodded, looking him over, “what about you?”  
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “we’ve been pretty busy too.”  
You bit your lip and glanced at Dean, then muttered, “you have no idea.”  
The Impala pulled up to the house you had been staying at. You got out quickly and rushed into the house, thankful to find a plate set out.  
The boys followed you into the house a moment later and looked around. Neither boy expected to see yellowed wallpaper and a plastic covered couch. You’d been living with your great-aunt for a while now. Just about a year, actually. Sam followed respectfully into the kitchen, but Dean looked around the living room and poked his head into the bathroom--finding mostly things your aunt used. You ate the sandwich quickly and tore off your jacket, tossing it onto the counter.   
“Need help grabbing anything?” Sam asked, tapping his hands together lightly.  
You nodded and set down your sandwich, “just be quiet.” You sighed as you pulled Sam up the stairs, leaving Dean alone.  
The two of you were silent as you lead Sam to your room and grabbed a giant duffle bag and started shoving clothes into it. After a moment, you went to the room across from yours, glancing at Sam. You put your finger up to your lip, silently saying that he needed to be extra quiet.

  
A few moments later, you were downstairs with Sam--who looked like he had seen a ghost.  
“What is it Sam?” Dean asked, looking at him in confusion.  
“Um…” Sam bit his lip and turned to look at you.  
Dean shifted his look over and froze when he saw you holding a baby carrier with a little boy in it.  



	2. Chapter 2

Dean froze--his eyes wide as he stared at your--his--son. He opened his mouth and closed it, shaking his head as he closed his eyes.

“So… You barely waited?” He asked, laughing a little. “After you made a big fucking deal about me trying to get information from that girl on a hunt, you barely waited after we broke up to go and just--”

“Dean--are you that dense?” You scoffed, laughing dryly. “Are you seriously that solid?”

He stared for a minute, the gears turning in his head until finally, it clicked.

“Oh,” he spoke softly, realization washing over his face.

“Yeah.” You said flatly as you walked past him and out the door.

Sam gave him a look, saying that he needed to fix this.

“Y/n,” Dean followed quickly reaching out to grab your wrist.

“Don’t.” You snapped, tearing away from him. “You have no idea--”

“Exactly,” Dean pointed out,” I had no idea that you were--”

“You drove off without giving me the chance to tell you.” You spat bitterly.

“If you hadn’t been so quick to blame me for--”

“For having your hand up her skirt?” Your eyes were wide as you turned to Dean. Setting down the carrier, your hands tightened into fists, “for kissing her? For flirting with her?  _ I’m _ the one in the wrong?”

His eyebrows furrowed together and he shook his head, “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Just like you didn’t mean to almost bring her to the motel?” You asked genuinely, though the question was backed by anger. “Dean, I want to be left alone. But if Bobby insists on seeing me, then I have to bring him with.” 

Dean was silent, thinking about what you had said. You turned and picked up the carrier, heading to the Impala to put your son inside.  
Sam came out of the house and patted Dean’s shoulder, “you fucked up.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He groaned as he shrugged him off, following behind you closely.

You buckled the car seat into the base and made sure it didn’t move. Dean leaned next to you, examining the little one--looking for any sign that maybe said he wasn’t the father. But there was no denying it, this kid was a Winchester.

Thankfully, he was a heavy sleeper, and didn’t flinch when Dean broke the silence.

“He’s cute,” Dean said shyly--neither of you knew exactly what to say.

“Thanks.” You rolled your eyes, “can we get going?”

“Can we at least talk about this?”

“About what?” You laughed a bit, “about him? About your son? Or how about how you’ve ignored his existence for his entire life, hm?” 

“If I had known, I wouldn’t have.” Dean huffed, “look--if you had called or--I don’t know--if someone would have told me, I would’ve come right back to you.”

“I don’t want you because you’re the father of my son, Dean.” You said softly, watching his eyes. “We shouldn’t be together just because we have a child together.” You inhaled shakily, “if you wanna be a family, you’ve gotta do a lot more than just show up.” 

Dean watched you, his leg bouncing in anxiousness as he listened.

“I’m not letting Judah be raised in the back of this fucking car because you want to hunt. I’m not letting you into his life just because you’re his father. Sure, you share blood, but you’re a stranger to him, Dean.” It hurt to say, but it was true. “If you’re really ready to stop being a bachelor and stop your sleeping around, then maybe I’ll consider letting you back in. I’ll give you a second chance. But you’ve gotta show me that you deserve it. Because I swear to fucking god, Dean, you’re not fucking him over like you did me.”

Dean took a deep breath and looked between you and your son, “his name is Judah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Judah Samuel y/l/n.” 

“Why Sam?” Dean frowned, glancing at his brother--who couldn’t help but grin a bit at hearing his name being mentioned.

“Because Sam checked in on me occasionally.” You shrugged, “and I figured Sam isn’t an asshole, so his nephew gets to carry on his name.”

Dean huffed again and sighed, shaking his head, “let’s get going.”

The three of you piled into the car and started driving towards Bobby’s.

“So, when’s his birthday?” Sam asked, turning to look at you in the backseat.

“September thirteenth,” you nodded, resting one hand on the blanket that covered his little legs.

“Oh wow,” Sam bit his lip, “he’s pretty cute.”

“You should see his eyes,” you smiled a little, watching him, “they’re just like Dean’s.”

“So you say that with a smile?” Dean mumbled.

“I can think you’re an ass and still think you have beautiful eyes.” You glared at him through the rearview mirror. “Ass.”

Dean shook his head, deciding to ignore you.

“It was scary when I had him, though,” you bit your lip, “the closest hospital is three hours away, and the clinic in town isn’t prepared to handle a birth.”

“So you had him on the road?” Sam guessed.

“No,” you shook your head, “I was staying with my aunt and I barely made it into my room by the time he was crowning.” You bit your lip and watched him sleep, “she helped me on my bed and--she was a nurse. Back before she retired, she was a nurse. So I mean, she knew what to do. But I didn’t have medicine, an actual doctor, monitors--nothing.”

“Oh,” Sam blinked in surprise, nodding slowly, “was everything okay though? No complications or anything?”

“Oh god, no. Everything went wrong.” You shook your head, “she called for an ambulance, and thankfully this town is pretty well stocked in those. But they got there after I’d given birth. After Judah came out, he wasn’t crying--he wasn’t breathing.” You explained, “and I was bleeding so heavily that I passed out.” 

“So… What happened?” Sam asked, glancing at Dean who looked tense.

“I woke up in the hospital,” you shrugged, “my aunt was by my side, she told me that Judah was in the NICU so he could be watched for the night. He was okay, just… Something wasn’t working when he was born.”

“And you?” He pressed.

“I had to be in the hospital for a few extra days.” You nodded, “the bleeding was normal, but it was the amount.”

“How much?” Dean looked at you from the rearview mirror.

“Every time I stood up I’d bleed more,” you shrugged, “an unnatural amount, not the usual ‘you just had a baby and you’re bleeding’ kind. It was like I’d just been stabbed or something.”

“Oh…” Sam nodded slowly, biting his lip as he rested his head on his arm, which was slung over the seat of the Impala.

“But it stopped after a couple of days, which was good.”

“Did they ever figure out what it was?” Dean glanced back at you quickly, just enough to make eye contact.

“I don’t really think so,” you shook your head, “if they did, no one ever told me.”

“That’s fucked up,” Dean muttered, “you should know why.”

“I wasn’t really asking a lot of questions at that time,” you sighed, “I was just trying to figure out what I was going to do.”

The three of you were silent for a minute, then Sam asked the important question.

“Why’d you go back into hunting?”

“I--” You started, but stopped. You didn’t want to get into that. “I don’t know.”

The boys both narrowed their eyes and shared a look, it was Dean who pressed.

“That’s not an answer.” He poked.

“It’s my answer.” You shrugged, getting quiet.

“What’s going on, y/n?” Sam asked, reaching out to lightly brush his fingers against your knuckles.

You stayed quiet and looked away, out the window. Minutes passed by, and tears started to well in your eyes. 

“Woah--hey, what’s going on?” Sam asked.

“I’m a terrible mother,” you whispered, shaking your head. “The minute I brought him home, I wanted him gone.” Tears overwhelmed you and suddenly your head was in your hands. “I love him but I’m scared I’m going to hurt him--I’ve--I’ve  _ killed  _ things, you guys.” Your body shook as you cried, “I’m not fit to be a mother--I--I just--I couldn’t bear the thought to get rid of him.”

You could feel the Impala slow down and come to a stop in front of some rinky diner. Dean got out and went to the other side of the Impala. He opened the door and gently pulled you out. You didn’t fight him.

He wrapped you in his arms, letting you cry into his chest. Gently, he ran his hand through your hair, trying his best to give you what you needed.

“I wanted that bastard to kill me tonight,” you confessed.


End file.
